


Sparkless Light

by Necro_Floodwaters



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-05-07 04:21:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14663192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Necro_Floodwaters/pseuds/Necro_Floodwaters
Summary: Far back in the Master of Thieves past, long before he became a Master, he wandered many dimensions, stuck in an endless cycle of death and resurrection. In this life, he has arrived in the universe of Destiny, at the beginning of a new war. He has chosen humanity's side. Will they accept him? Or will he be forced to move on once again?





	1. Chapter 1

So many times had he repeated this process. This endless cycle of life and death. So many universes, so many worlds, so many people. He had seen so much because of this ceaseless resurrection, but even so, there was always something new. Just like this universe he now found himself in. The Earth he stood upon this time was missing something. Something he had grown so fond of in his time among them. Where were the humans? Where were the creatures he had grown to care for so much? The city before him was crumbling, overrun with nature, signs and cars rusted almost to nothingness. Where had they all gone?

CRUNCH! He froze and turned his attention to the thing under his foot. Based on the sound of the object when he focused on it, it was bone, so old that it snapped readily when he stepped on it. He crouched and picked up the larger of the pieces and listened. It was human. But centuries old. Its original, unique, and, admittedly, somewhat dull sound had begun to change to match the ground it had rested on for so long. "Where are the rest? Where are your friends? Your family?" He didn't particularly require an answer from the bone. Now that he was aware of the changed sound, he could hear the bones of millions, resting as peacefully as they could in the fading city. "I felt something when I breathed for the first time in this world. An evil beyond anything I could ever imagine. Is that what did this? What drove you from your home? And ultimately killed you?" Again, he needed no answer from the bone and it did not provide one. He felt that evil even now, but as he had adjusted to its presence, he had realized that it did not originate from the planet he stood upon, but rather its moon. And beyond that, far out, into the farthest reaches of the solar system, there was something even greater. Some pressure that felt familiar, yet disturbingly foreign.

Setting the bone down, the man stood once more and let out a breath. "I would bring you with me, but you have earned your rest. Don't worry about me. I shall find livelier company." He paid his respects then began to walk. He knew not where he was going yet, but he did know one thing for sure: humanity was not dead. No, humans were far too stubborn to die so easily. Of course, he mused, if that was the only thing to humans, he would be far more human than them.

Several months passed as the man wandered, occasionally coming across creatures that clearly did not belong on this world. At least, they hadn't centuries ago. At first, he thought them the new inhabits of Earth and was content to watch them. Eventually, he noticed that there were different creatures. As far as he could tell, there were two different species, each with its own subspecies. The first ones he encountered were filled with a strange substance. He couldn't tell if it was gas and some quasi-solid…thing. But he noticed that some of them were bigger than him by as many as five times and had four arms and hands, all of which seemed occupied by a weapon of one form or another. Others were smaller and, in some cases, missing two of their arms. After some time observing them, he discovered that the sometimes four armed creatures were scavengers, scouring the ruins of the cities of any usable scrap. He had had to do the same so as to have clothes that actually fit his body.

The second species he came across reminded him of grotesquely over evolved bugs. He could think what kind of bugs they reminded him of, but he knew that messing with them would be like kicking a hornets' nest. So of course, he continued to observe quietly as he passed through the old cities and new forests. These creatures were also separated into different sects, but the differences were…noticeable, to say the least. There were two distinct sects that were his size, one though was incredibly skinny and fast and made strange howling noises before they attacked. The other of the smaller beings were built sturdier and used rifles. They seemed only slightly more intelligent than the skinny ones. The ones he had to watch out for the most were the two big sects. Creatures that wielded swords and things that could fly and command some form of magic. He found out the hard way how much of a pain the flying ones could be when he stumbled upon one on its own. He succeeded in taking it down, but without a weapon, it had been rather difficult, especially in broad daylight.

Over time, it became much easier to avoid both new species and as he watched, he noticed something: they were afraid. He didn't yet know of what, but there was definite fear buried within them. A few months into his journey, he didn't know exactly how long since he'd stopped counting the days after five months passed, the fear within the bug-like creatures skyrocketed and he felt the presence from the moon vanish. Whatever had been up there, was now dead, and they knew it. Something similar happened with the four-armed ones, but far more gradually, and a few months after whatever happened with the bugs. Something or someone was fighting them. Fighting back.

More time passed. The man had managed to cross an ocean and now he was fairly certain that he was in what was left of Europe. It was there he first observed them. The ones fighting back. They were a mixed bunch, made up of humans, some form of sentient machines, and an alien race he wasn't quite familiar with. Regardless of what information he did or did not have, they were certainly fighters, often cutting through the four-armed aliens and the bugs, sometimes with extreme prejudice.

Over time, the man noticed that some of the fighters left their ships hovering where they stopped, while the owners ran off to do whatever it was they came for, be it clearing away the enemy or gathering resources. Regardless of the task, the fighters were often gone long enough that, if the man had a mind to, he could have easily hitched a ride. Of course, he wouldn't dream of doing so without ensuring he wouldn't be caught in the act, so he settled for simple observation until he found a suitable target.

It took nearly a month of testing to be sure, but the man was finally convinced of something: when it came to the security of their ships, the fighters were sorely lacking. When he could, he would the security of the ships left behind. Much to his surprise, the ships were often left under-defended. Sometimes, he would come across a ship with security measures in place, but it was not often. And so, after discovering the oversight, the man did the only thing he could think to do: he took advantage of it and managed to sneak into the small cargo hold of one of the ships and hitchhiked.

To say it was an uncomfortable ride would be a bit of an understatement, but the man arrived in one piece and, once he was certain that he wouldn't be spotted, he slipped out of the cargo hold and into a large, open space filled with other ships of various sizes and models. "Hangar. Hangar means people." The man commented as he set off in search of an exit. Or food. Whichever he came across first.

Turned out it was an exit, one that led to what he assumed was a launch pad. A launch pad that was, at least, a couple thousand feet in the air. "Well, that's not helpful." He grumbled and began examining the launch pad, hoping for an elevator or even stairs, though an elevator would be preferable. Thankfully there was a service elevator, but it required a passcode and, very unfortunately for him, he was blind and had no idea what was written on the keys. "I guess audio-based vision is useless for this shit..." He mumbled, pulling a small knife made of bone from his left sleeve and using the point to unscrew the cover. "Wires, wires, and look, a chip. So, if I just..." He fiddled with the chip for a moment then one of the wires. After a moment, the gears made a clunking sound and began to whir. He quickly fixed the cover and hid behind a barrel nearby as he waited. It turned out to be a good idea, as when the doors opened, it revealed several workers pushing carts filled with the same kind of barrel he was hiding behind.

"Offload these in the main hangar so the fuel team can get to work, then grab those old ones!" A woman called out from the front of the group, pointing at a group of barrels near where the man was hiding. The man briefly considered hiding inside one of the barrels but figured that his added weight would be a concern to the workers. No, he would simply have to take his chances and find a way to hide inside the elevator. Barring that, he supposed he could try riding on top of it. "Hurry up!" There was the woman's voice again. "It's the last load of the day, so come on!" Well, if he was going to do anything, now would be the time. He actually did end up having to ride on top of the elevator and had to wait for the workers to finish their job before he could descend.

After an incredibly long elevator ride, and listening in on a variety of personal conversations that he hoped to forget in the near future, they finally reached the bottom and he was able to disembark. His first thought, once he was safely away, was that wherever he was, it was big. The second thought was that he was in a massive city, built by humanity's hands. The thought immediately following that one was, in his opinion, the most important: he needed new clothes or he would never blend in. Granted, for the most part, he went unnoticed, regardless of what he looked like, but he had a feeling about this city.

Just as he was about to set off in search of a clothing store, his stomach growled. "Oh…food." He hesitated, then set off in a different direction, the same one the workers from earlier had taken moments before. "Food first." As he walked, the man realized his assessment of the city was wrong. It wasn't just massive. It rivaled even the biggest cities he had seen on his journey. It was so large that he lacked a word to describe it. And the city did not just sprawl outwards but reached high into the sky as well. Most of the buildings were skyscrapers and there were even levels to the streets in some areas. It was in one such area that he found a restaurant, somewhere in the middle of the many levels, that he was sure would have found to his liking. It was one of the few single-story buildings he'd come across but had a surprising amount of space when he walked inside, the smell of various spices, vegetables, and even some meat.

"Welcome! Have a seat and we'll be right with you!" Someone called from the kitchen in the back when the man entered. Per the request, he chose a seat at the counter, next to one of the sentient machines he had first observed some time ago. The machine was currently enjoying a large bowl of noodles. If he were less experience in the abnormal, the man may have found that strange, but as it was he decided to ask a question instead.

"Excuse me, but I'm new here. Any recommendations?"

The machine slurped up a mouthful of noodles and turned to answer the man. "The spicy ramen is pretty...good…." The machine man, the voice was definitively male, trailed off and the flesh and blood man got the sense that he was being starred at. "You know, with that…thing wrapped around your head, you remind me of someone I know."

"I sincerely hope that's a good thing, Mr…?"

"Cayde-6. No mister. And you are?"

"Jaxon." He replied, holding his hand out. Cayde-6 shook it then pointed at the rags Jaxon had used to hide his face.

"What's with that? Person I knew wore them to hide these freaky eyes they had."

"Oh, nothing like that. Just something I'd prefer no one to see."

"Like triple eyes leaking...goop.

Jaxon had to pause at that. He was old and, after the length of time he'd been alive, he thought he was used to weird things, but that still threw him for a loop, even if it didn't make his top one hundred list. "Uh...no, nothing like…you have some odd friends, don't you?"

Cayde-6 simply shrugged and returned to his bowl. Just as he was about to take in another mouthful of noodles, a smaller machine materialized in front of him, the back and front half of its symmetrical body spinning frantically. "Cayde! Ikora and Zavala need you at the tower now!"

"What's the matter? I'm gone for five minutes and suddenly they need me back? I just want to enjoy my noodles."

"I don't know, communication is all over the place right now, but Zavala is very insistent."

"Seems like you've got a busy night ahead of you." Jaxon commented.

"Yeah. Tell you what, you hold my spot for me, I'll pay for your ramen." Cayde-6 said as he stood up to go.

"Really? And here I thought I was gonna have to work for a bowl. Thank you."

"No problem," Cayde-6 replied as he headed out, Jaxon taking the seat next to his. It turned out that spicy ramen was very good and Jaxon, who realized he hadn't much in the way of real food during his wandering, was halfway through his second bowl when he heard the explosions.

Forever attempting the route of optimism, Jaxon asked the shopkeeper if there may have been a celebration going on somewhere nearby. He never got his answer, as the shopkeeper was interrupted by another thunderous boom, this time much closer and accompanied by the sound of screaming. "What the hell is going?!" Jaxon bolted up and outside, where he immediately encountered a wall of smoke, forcing him back inside. "I think we may need to find a way out."

"Why? What's going-" The shopkeeper was interrupted once again, this time by gunfire from out in the street. Gunfire from what sounded like massive weapons.

"Well, dear ramen maker, if I had to guess? Your city has just been invaded." Jaxon responded, hopping over the counter and heading for the kitchen.

"What? No, that can't…the City can't have been invaded! The Guardians would…they would stop anyone who tried!" The older man said as he frantically followed Jaxon.

"Yes, well, if I had the time, I could recount almost every single time any form of defending group failed to defend, but we could possibly die at any moment, so if you have a gun or something, now would be the time to grab it." He said as, after some quick searching, he held up a large knife he'd found in a drawer. He turned to regard the shopkeeper, who had taken Jaxon's words seriously and was now holding a sidearm in his trembling hands, and smiled as reassuringly as he could. "Alright, Mr. Shopkeeper, I need you to take a nice deep breath and calm down. I'm going to get you somewhere safe and I'm going to get you there alive and in one piece. Ok?" The man did as Jaxon instructed and smiled back, his trembling subsiding slightly. "Better?"

"A little…but can you really get me to safety? With that?" The man pointed at the knife in Jaxon's hand.

"This," he asked, waving the knife, "oh, hell yeah." He grinned. "Now, do you have a back exit or something?" The shopkeeper nodded and led the way out back. "Alright," Jaxon said, a hand on the door ready to push it open, "once we get out here, you'll have to tell me where we're going. Can you do that?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I can."

"Excellent. Out we go then." That said, the two started on their way. Their journey to the nearest safe point, though relatively short in distance, turned out difficult, long, and incredibly dangerous. Along the way, Jaxon cut down many of the invaders, creatures that dwarfed him, and the taller shopkeeper, by several feet and were covered head-to-toe in armor that had to weigh several times their body weight, let alone Jaxon's. Their weapons, in some cases, seemed almost as big as the knife-wielding man. And despite all that, he found it far too easier to kill them. The locking mechanism for their helmets was weak enough that a well-placed stab sliced straight through it and into the neck. And their air supply, apparently. Eventually, they met a Guardian that informed them that any survivors were to get to someone named Shaxx, that the usual shelters had been destroyed, some with people inside. The Guardian escorted them most of the way until she ran into someone named Zavala, who had managed to make a defensive line protecting the new safe area. Jaxon and the shopkeeper ran the rest of the way and were greeted by a tall, well-built man wearing armor and wearing a helmet with a horn on one side and a broken stump on the other. As the man, presumably this Shaxx person they were meant to meet, led them up into a towering structure until they reached a hallway packed with other people.

"We wait here for now, until the way has been cleared." Shaxx informed them, his name now confirmed as some of the survivors greeted him with a respectful "Lord Shaxx".

Jaxon, finally able to put his knife away, sat down with his back against a wall and let out a breath. It had been a long time since he'd had to fight something so much bigger than him. He had almost broken his promise to the shopkeeper several times on the way here. Not too long after he arrived, a commotion started up further down the hallway. From what he could hear, a Guardian had shown up, one that everyone seemed to have a great deal of faith in. Shaxx spoke with them for a moment before forcibly pulling open the doors to an armory for them. The Guardian left soon after and they were all left with the sounds of the distantly raging battle and the soft murmur of the survivors as they tried to reassure one another.

Almost an hour passed before something else happened. Unfortunately, it was not a victory. To everyone else in the room, Shaxx had merely slumped against the wall. It was still worrying, of course, but to Jaxon, who could feel the energy that he, and all other Guardians, carried within him suddenly cut off, he knew the situation was far more serious than it appeared. He left the others to look after him, but that did not last.

"Everyone…" Shaxx announced, leaning against the wall as he stood, "we need to leave the City. An evac route is being established, so we need to move." Organizing the survivors took some effort and cost them some time, but, eventually, they were all moving out, Jaxon near the front of the group, just a little ways behind Shaxx. They reached the outside quickly enough, but it soon became apparent just has bad everything was. Their evacuation route had been cut off, and dead Guardians littered the ground. Jaxon didn't any of his abilities to know how everyone around him felt. The shock? The fear? For the first time in millennia, he felt it. But something he felt from few in the crowd, something that was surprisingly welling up inside of him now, was anger. He didn't know why. He just knew it was there. And he was going to do something about it.

Jaxon's thoughts, however, were cut off by cries rising up from the survivors as several of the creatures came into view, weapons at the ready. Everyone began trying to get back inside the tower, trying to take what shelter they could from what was certain death. Shaxx was doing his best to calm them, to get them inside without getting themselves hurt, but it was hopeless. Just as the first rockets and massive slugs were about to hit the panicking crowd, a dome made of the darkest shadows enclosed them and the entrance to the tower, Jaxon standing at the edge facing the outside, listening as the projectiles slammed into it, and failed to penetrate.

There was a moment of stunned silence, then Shaxx was pointing at a gun at Jaxon and demanding, "Who are you? How did you accomplish this?"

"Currently I'm going by Jaxon. And I'm gonna need your sword." He replied casually, turning to face the others with a smile. "Or we're likely all going to die here."

"My sword? Why would I hand you my sword, when you control Darkness?"

"Because I can't use my knife against that many whatever-they-are and I didn't bring my own. Now are you going to let me save these people, or are you going to shoot me and save those monsters a bullet?" The silence that followed was long and only broken by the sound of rounds slamming into the shield made of shadows. Finally, Shaxx lowered his gun and handed over the sword. Jaxon swung it a few times to test it and nodded. "Thank you. Does it have a name?"

"Raze Lighter."

"Nice name. Come along then, Raze Lighter. We've got work to do." Jaxon smiled at the sword and turned to face the dome he had put up. "Damn, I wish I had my music. Don't Stop Me Now would work excellently…" He muttered to himself. To the group at large, he said, "Everyone get inside. I can fight better if I'm not concentrating on shielding you." Once alone, Jaxon shrunk the shield to cover just himself and shifted his weight on his feet a few times. "Ok. How'd it go? Tonight I'm gonna have myself a real good time? Yeah, that's it. Come on now, Freddie, don't let me down." He let out a sharp exhale and dropped the shield when he heard the distinct click of the guns reloading.

While he certainly knew that weapons behaved strangely in this universe, Jaxon wasn't fully expecting the sword to literally turn some enemies into piles of ash. However, once he did know…let's just say that few things in existence are quite as vicious, efficient, or so effective in a fight as Jaxon when he begins to enjoy himself. Lacking any other way of describing the…slaughterhouse that was this fight, I will take it upon myself, in a complete break from my usual writing style, to tell you the only thing that you, the dear reader, need to know about the outcome is that while body parts, and occasionally ash, are in no way strangers to battlefields, that which was left behind by Jaxon in his…enthusiasm would make anyone sick to look at it and even makes me ill just to imagine it and try to figure out how to convey that. So instead, I have chosen to spare you the details, on the off chance I should draw a younger crowd than others my age. Now, we may return to the story.

Jaxon knocked on the door to the tower, Raze Lighter resting on his shoulder, and caught it before it could swing open and reveal him in gore covered clothing. "Is that Shaxx?"

"N-No…he's right h-here though…" A nervous man replied.

"Get him then. I'm not exactly presentable right now and I don't think the kids in there need to see me." He was met with silence before the door opened far enough to allow Shaxx to exit. He seemed to be carrying himself more easily now, his body finally having adjusted to the weight of his armor without his power to help hold it up.

"I didn't think you'd be returning alive."

"I surprise people like that all the time. I cleared the way, but it won't stay like that. I'm going to go on ahead and keep it as safe as possible."

"I guess that means you will need to continue borrowing my sword."

"Indeed. Don't worry though. I'll make sure it's nice and clean when I give it back." He grinned and turned to go then turned back and added, "By the way, how did you break the other horn?"

"Why do you wear those rags around your face?"

Jaxon opened his mouth then shut it. He thought about it for a moment before chuckling and nodding. Then he left to ensure the route's safety.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Necro: Hey, don't forget you can find me on Tumblr at necro-floodwaters-fiction-inc! (That name will probably get changed to something a little more manageable.) Kudos and comments are always appreciated, too! They feed my motivation!

Escaping the City proved to be more difficult than entering it. The monstrous creatures, that Jaxon had been informed were called the Cabal, were everywhere. They patrolled the streets in small platoons, some accompanied by tanks. Since Jaxon was forging ahead, clearing a path for the refugees, he saw that the Cabal were not just patrolling. They were searching. Systemically sniffing out, rounding up, and executing any and all Guardians they could find. Jaxon was able to help a few, but the others...the others he would only think about later, when everyone was safe.

Eventually they did manage to escape, into the mountains and foothills surrounding the now burning city. Unfortunately, they were not the only ones to think of that. There were many waiting for survivors. Too many for Jaxon to fight alone. He held them off for a long while, but he was certain that death was hovering over him, waiting for that single slip up that was bound to come, sooner rather than later. And then he was surrounded, but not by the enemy. Instead, the very citizens he had been trying to protect were suddenly all around him, wielding weapons they had scavenged along the way. Even Shaxx was helping, managing to fire a massive gun that could only have come from a fallen Cabal, despite his weakened state. The fight ended quickly after that, with few losses on their side. And afterwards, the way was clear. The group pulled itself together after that and began on its way once more, hiking tiredly through the terrain until finally, thankfully, someone found them. Her name was Hawthorne and she led a rescue expedition. Jaxon didn’t think he’d ever been so happy to see someone in his life and his happiness didn’t compare to that of the others, who all gratefully stumbled into the ships the human woman had brought along. Many people collapsed wherever there was room. Jaxon chose to sit as close to the entrance of the ship as possible, attention turned outward. So few times in his life had he ever felt the need to protect something like he did this group. He was determined that they would be alright. Thankfully, his attention proved unnecessary and they arrived safely at a place Hawthorne referred to as ‘The Farm’. The ships set down in an empty field near what appeared to be a hastily constructed, and still in progress, shantytown. It wasn’t clean, it wasn’t well made, but it was safe, and that was all anyone was asking for right now.

Jaxon helped usher everyone off the ships and find a temporary home among the metal and wood lean-tos. Once everyone was inside, he wandered off, numbly dragging Raze Lighter along as he tries to familiarize himself with this place. After a short while, he found himself in the middle of a set of buildings that made it clear why it was called the Farm. There was a large rundown barn, a silo, an old stone house that he was vaguely surprised was still standing. There was a waterwheel just a little off to the side. He could hear the river that passed by, but the wheel didn’t seem to be turning. He walked over to it, not entirely sure of what he really intended, and ended up just sitting down in front of the building, Raze Lighter lying next to him.

“Hey, what are you doing over here?” It was the woman from before, Hawthorne. She must have seen him wander off and likely got concerned. He definitely would be if he saw someone acting like he was.

“I uh...I have no clue. I just wanted to get familiar with the Farm and...I dunno...” Jaxon trailed off. He wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. He’d never felt this way before. Did he go too far today? Had he overexerted himself? His body felt unreasonably heavy.

“Maybe you should get back with the others.”

“Maybe yeah...” He mumbled, standing slowly, leaning heavily on the borrowed sword. “Thank you, by the way. I doubt they would have made it much...further...” He stumbled and fell, consciousness fading.

Jaxon woke later in what he assumed was the house that he’d observed earlier. He didn’t know how long it had been, but it had to have been quite some time. He sat up slowly, his body aching only in the way that a body can when it hasn’t moved in a while. He still felt slow, but whatever it was that was causing this, it seemed to be letting up.

He stumbled over to the door and attempted to open it, only to find it locked. He sighed and, rather than knock with his hand, Jaxon thumped his head against the door. When no one answered, he thumped his head again. After the fourth thump, he heard footsteps on the outside and the lock clicked moments later. He shifted to the side as the door opened and, before the person before him could say anything, he mumbled, “Bathroom. Please.” There was a pause and then the other person stepped aside. “Thank you.” He edged out of the room and shuffled down the hallway he now found himself in. “Inside or outside?”

“Inside. We have running water.” The other person’s voice was deep and gruff as he pointed to a door to Jaxon’s left. “Once you’re done, I have to take you to Shaxx.” Jaxon was just barely able to register that the person’s body didn’t sound human. Perhaps he was one of the aliens that sounded like a piece of flute music to him. What were they called?

“Thank you.” He replied quietly, deciding to ask later when he felt...right again. After his business was done, he stepped out, shaking water from his hands and followed the other outside.

The other led Jaxon to the rundown and, honestly, falling apart barn just across the dirt path from the house. Shaxx was standing inside, overseeing the decoration of a small nook set off to the side. “Lord Shaxx, he’s awake.” Jaxon’s guide said once he was within easy speaking distance. Shaxx turned, his helmeted face regarding Jaxon for a moment before he nodded at the Guardian, who nodded back and left.

“You seem much better.” Jaxon said after his guide left. “But I don’t feel your power anymore.”

“You can feel the Light?”

“Light? A fitting name, I suppose.” Jaxon shivered slightly as his senses and body began to return in full, albeit slowly. “But yes, I feel it. Everyone here carries a little spark inside them, but….you and your fellow...Guardians carry so much more. But now you are empty.”

“Yes, but that will not stop us from fighting back. Light is not what makes a Guardian.”

“No, I imagine it isn’t.” Jaxon moved to sit on a box, his body protesting slightly as it was forced to move again shift around until he was at least mildly comfortable. “If you’re going to ask for my help, you don’t need to bother. It’s yours. If, because of what I did back there, you want me to go, I will. I will somewhere else. I always do.”

“Even though you wield the Darkness, you offer to help us?”

Jaxon smiled tiredly and nodded. “Humanity is my greatest love. And if they should choose to fight, I will fight with them.”

“Excellent. Then first, you should rest, recover your strength. Then, the fight begins in earnest.”

Following this conversation were several days of recovering, as well as getting used to a strange pressure that seemed to emanate from the mountains not too far from the Farm. During his recovery, another Guardian arrived. Well, many arrived, but this one was special. Something about them felt different. He couldn’t quite figure it out though. Somehow, they never really crossed paths. They would always just miss each other, no matter how hard he tried. It didn’t help that once he was recovered enough to stand without issue, he was being included in any and all strategy meetings that Shaxx held. They weren’t much at first, since it was mostly just Shaxx attempting to encourage and organize the other Guardians. 

However, things significantly picked up when Zavala, the commander of the military side of the Vanguard, returned. Accompanied by the Guardian, who had somehow regained their Light. It didn’t take long for Zavala to access the situation and begin helping to build up their defenses. He sent the Guardian off to find the rest of the vanguard. Zavala planned to take back the City.

Strategy and intel meetings quickly became regular occurrences. Jaxon was often invited to them, though when he attended he would usually sit somewhere out of the way. Eventually, Cayde-6 joined them and a woman by the name of Ikora appeared soon after, completing the vanguard once again. Then the meetings truly began.

“Asher has told me that the Almighty is connected directly to the Sun’s core.” Ikora started off this particular meeting by dropping the verbal equivalent of a nuclear bomb, which certainly made things more exciting.

“So if we blow up the big sun blower-upper we blow up the Sun anyway?” Cayde-6 asked, petting a chicken that had drawn some stares several meetings back but was now commonplace.

“An excellent summary, Cayde.” Jaxon commented from his usual perch toward the back of the room. He had been invited to this, even though it was only the vanguard at the moment. “But if destroying the Almighty takes your sun with it, what can you do?”

“We will have to disable it instead.” Zavala replied. “Our Guardian is capable of quick, in-and-out strikes. They can also operate independently in case of a communication outage.”

“And once they’ve taken out the Almighty?” Cayde-6 asked.

“Then we take back our City.” Ikora said, her Ghost projecting a map of the City, walls included. 

“Well, that’s all well and good to say, but how would we even get inside the walls?” Cayde-6 asked, stepping forward to study the map, chicken still in his arms.

As the vanguard considered how to answer Cayde-6’s question, Hawthorne slipped down from her perch on the roof, easily passing through one of the many holes in the barn, and sat down next to Jaxon. “You know, the City’s walls are a lot like this barn,” She began, the vanguard turning to face her with varying degrees of surprise and respect on the faces, “lot of places to slip in unseen.”

“And while I trust you all to be rather stealthy, I can help provide a distraction.” Jaxon added. He wanted them to succeed and if that meant pushing his own abilities, so be it.

“What sort of distraction?” Zavala asked him.

“A big one. But...I will need Guardians with me. Once I start, Cabal will be on me pretty quickly. I can understand if you can’t spare anyway. I can fight without them.”

“You would risk your life for our City?” Zavala asked and when Jaxon nodded, he nodded back and said, “Then you will have your Guardians.”

“Two or three will be all I need.” He said confidently. “And I will bring them back.”

The vanguard accepted his offer for a distraction and promised to provide two Guardians. That done, they turned back to Hawthorne, who began to show them all the hidden ways into the walls she’d learned over the years. There were quite a few. Over time, with Hawthorne’s and Jaxon’s help, a plan formed. There was still every chance they would die. But it was the best plan they had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Necro: Hey, don't forget you can find me on Tumblr at necro-floodwaters-fiction-inc! (That name will probably get changed to something a little more manageable.) Kudos and comments are always appreciated, too! They feed my motivation!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Necro: Hey! If you wanna see more of my writing, particularly my original works, follow me at necro-floodwaters-fiction-inc! It will be getting a name change soon, promise!

Jaxon hadn’t expected to move out so soon. He’d thought that it would take weeks to organize the strike. But no, it had barely taken three days. The vanguard was used to this sort of thing, apparently. And many Guardians, regardless of their lack of power, were eager to help. Even if it meant dying their last death, they would all fight for their home. And he would too. He would fight with them. Which is why he was sitting a cliff, halfway up a mountain near the City, ready to create a distraction that he wasn’t entirely sure would work.

 

He turned his attention to one of the two Guardians that had accompanied him, the same one that had watched over him when he first arrived at the farm, and said, “When I start, I won’t be able to move. What I’m going to do will take too much concentration. And a lot of energy. Energy that can be tracked. Are you sure you want to be here? You could die.”

 

“We came to get our home back. If we have to die to do that, then so be it.” The Guardian replied, their helmet on the ground next to them. Jaxon and the two Guardians were waiting for the signal to begin and had taken the moment to rest, the Guardians removing their helmets. Jaxon did not do the same with his wrappings. But without the armor in the way, Jaxon could clearly hear what they were. The one who had just spoken was one of the aliens that sounded so similar to humans, but…slightly off key to him. Awoken, he’d learned they were called. The other, who had been silent, except for occasional remarks, was an Exo, the sentient machines from a war long gone.

 

“What are your names?” He asked after a long silence.

 

The Awoken spoke first. “Everyone calls me Net.”

 

“Wha...why?”

 

“I run a lot of capture missions. Always come back with something. So everyone started calling me Net. It stuck.” They shrugged. “Besides, didn’t remember my old name anyway. Felt nice to have something to be called.”

 

Jaxon nodded. He knew that feeling. He was about to say as much when a quiet voice cut him off. “Dice-10.” It was the Exo. Jaxon had forgotten how gentle he sounded. He’d spoken all of two times since they’d left the Farm, not counting this. Jaxon liked him though. Dice-10 was carrying a lot of knives, something that never failed to endear Jaxon to someone. “My name is Dice-10. It’s written on my arms.”

 

“Oh. That must be…convenient?” Dice-10 nodded at Jaxon, who had to restrain himself from letting out a sigh of relief. That was undoubtedly awkward, so he was glad that Dice-10 didn’t seem upset about it. “Is that…a usual thing for Exos?”

 

“My friend’s is written on their butt.”

 

“Oh.” While Jaxon could read other’s emotions, he simply forgot to use it to tell if Dice-10 was joking or not. Before he could ask, or even possibly embarrass himself, the signal came. They stood, the Guardians pulling on their helmets and readying their weapons, Jaxon moved closer to the edge of the cliff, stepping carefully. “So…got half an hour. Excellent.” He took in a deep breath and let it out quickly. “So…just…gonna sit here and concentrate.”

 

“Have you done this before?” Net asked him.

 

“Yes, it’s just…uncomfortable. And a big drain.” He plopped down at the edge, legs crossed, and faced the direction of the City. “Remember, we’ll probably be found fairly quickly. So…eyes up?”

 

“We’ve got your back.” Dice-10 said, already intently watching the horizon.

 

“You do whatever it is you’re about to do and we’ll keep you alive.” Net told him.

 

“I’m more worried about you two, but very well. Hope you don’t mind storms….” Jaxon trailed off as he began to concentrate.

“Storms?” Net asked Dice-10, who just shrugged. “Hope this guy knows what he’s doing.”

Nearly the full half an hour passed before either Net or Dice-10 noticed anything different. Net just happened to glance back at the City and spot the dark, angry, swirling clouds. As they turned fully to watch, lightning, black yet somehow burning just as bright as any lightning they’d seen before, arced from the clouds to the ground and thunder followed soon after, shaking their body and booming in their chest. “I think he knows what he’s doing….”

Dice-10 had turned at the sound of thunder, his gun hanging limply as he watched the unearthly electrical storm center over the Cabal base closest to the spot where Zavala’s team was going to enter. It seemed, based on where the lightning struck most of the time, that Jaxon intended on scrambling the Cabal as much as possible with the electrical storm. “That’s impressive.” Net simply nodded in response.

The show didn’t last long however, as Dice-10 spotted several ships rising from another part of the City, angling towards their spot on the cliffs. “Eyes up, Net. Three carriers and a Thresher headed our way.”

“You can tell what they are from here?” Dice-10 just nodded. “Damn. Wish I could do that.”

Before the conversation could go further than that, Zavala’s voice carried through their comms. “Fireteam High Top, we have entered the City without issue, but you have Cabal headed your way. We can take it from here, so get out of there.”

“Fireteam High Top here, we’ve spotted the ships. Dice informed me that there are three Cabal carriers and a Thresher. As soon as we can, we’re moving out.” Net responded, stepping forward to Jaxon to try and bring him out of whatever trance he was in. It didn’t take long before Jaxon was blinking and the storm was fading.

“Did they-” He was interrupted by a series of coughs, a few of which came out more gurgling than the rest, and splattered part of Net’s armor with blood. “Oh…that’s unpleasant….” He mumbled, stumbling into Net’s arms as he tried to stand.

“Shit, are you alright?”

“Too much energy…it’s wrecked my insides….” He coughed again, this time aiming for the ground. “I’ll…clean the armor for you….”

“Don’t worry about that. We need to get out of here. The Cabal are on their way.”

“Wonderful…let’s get going….” Jaxon held onto Net’s arm to steady himself as they all began heading down the mountain trail they’d climbed originally. Had the spot where they’d set up been any bigger, they could have landed their borrowed ship there, but that wasn’t the case. And the pace the trail forced them to keep could very well be their death.

“We’re not going to make it. Weapons ready.” Dice-10 said as they reached an old building, half-fallen in on itself and covered in a thick layer of snow, that was roughly halfway to their ship.

“Damn it. Can you stand?” Net asked Jaxon.

“Yeah…I can fight too…it’s dark enough….” Jaxon stood straighter, releasing Net’s arm. He coughed again, almost doubling over but managing to stay upright. “I can…I can fight….”

“I hope so. They’re here.” Dice-10 was already raising his gun, and then things got dangerous.

Jaxon had been in a few firefights in his life. It was something he was used to. But he’d never been on the losing side. And that wasn’t going to start now. He had promised to get Dice-10 and Net back in one piece. And he’d be damned if he broke that promise. So he fought. He couldn’t move much. But he could still use his powers. And so the shadows of the mountain, the decrepit building, and even the Cabal themselves rose to his command. It was still difficult. Most of the kills went to Dice-10 and Net, but he did his part. He snared their enemy, ripped their weapons from their hands.

It some time. At some point, reinforcements were called and the small fireteam was beginning to struggle. Jaxon collapsed eventually, his body no longer able to support him or his abilities. Dice-10 lost half his left leg, but just kept firing as Net dragged him out of the way. “It seems…we need a…miracle, huh?” Jaxon spoke up, sitting against the old building, the only cover they had.

“A miracle _would_ be nice right now.” Net poked their head around the corner of the building and fired, taking down two of the smaller Cabal before they had to pull back. “Some ammo wouldn’t be too bad either. Starting to run low.” They grumbled. Dice-10 wordlessly handed them his rifle and sidearm. “Thanks, Dice.”

“No problem. Just shoot them. They shot off my leg.”

“Right.” Just as Net was about to duck out of their cover again, something happened. A thunderous voice rang out from the direction of the City, as if some great being had decided to address them all. Then…a light. A light that swept over them, filling everything, even Jaxon. And he knew, just knew, what it was. It was Light. The Traveler had woken. And he was protecting his Guardians. Jaxon felt the power flood back into Dice-10 and Net. He felt as their Ghosts came fully alive once again, Dice-10’s healing and restoring his leg. The Ghosts couldn’t do anything for Jaxon, but they didn’t need to. The Light had nestled inside him, mixing with his power surprisingly well, as if they knew one another and knew how to give each other space. It was enough to heal him. And heal him it did.

“Well….” Jaxon murmured as he stood. “Guardians, I think we’ve won the war.” They nodded, reloading as their Ghosts provided ammo. “Time to win this battle as well, don’t you think?” They nodded again and, as Jaxon borrowed a couple knives from Dice-10, they stepped out to meet their enemy.

The fight was short. Net cut down Cabal left and right with a burning sword, their slashes sending arches of flame soaring through the air. Dice-10 zipped between like a bolt of lightning, his knives flashing and turning his targets into nothing more than arcs of electricity that were vaguely Cabal shaped as they fade. And Jaxon. Jaxon merely strode forward, the shadows cast by himself and the Cabal whipping about angrily as they responded to his unspoken commands, choking their owners, carving into their sides, rending them limb from limb. Yes, the fight was short. It lasted all of four minutes.

“Fireteam High Top reporting in,” Net said, their Ghost proudly broadcasting their voice on all channels, “We made it.” They said, leading the way to the ship. “We’re coming home. We’re returning to the City.”

“Zavala to Fireteam High Top, that is an affirmative. We will need help securing the City. We’re sending the Guardian back to the Farm to ensure that the citizens know we succeeded.”

“We’re on our way to help out.” There was a pause as Net strapped in the pilot seat, Dice-10 and Jaxon standing behind them. “Zavala?”

“Yes, Net?”

“The Traveler. What does he look like?”

“Magnificent.” Zavala answered after a moment.

Net leaned forward, their helmet making a soft thud as it connected with the console. “Thank you. We’re headed your way now.” Their voice sounded a bit thicker as they started up the liftoff.

Clearing the City of Cabal didn’t take long. Jaxon, Net, and Dice-10 later found out that the reason for this was that Ghaul had been defeated by the Traveler when he grew to several _hundred_ feet tall in a pure Light version of his body. None of them knew quite how to react to that, so they just focused on ridding the City of the few Cabal that had missed the retreat. Once they finished that, they unsure what to do. Frankly, they were too drained to be of help with anything. Eventually, they were ordered back to the Farm to rest. Back at the Farm, Jaxon just invited the two Guardians into his room in the old house, where they all passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MP: Hey everyone, don't forget to leave a kudo and, if you want, a comment! It really means a lot to us and helps keep Necro motivated!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Necro: Hey, everyone. Sorry for the wait. I got caught up with a project of mine, which sorta fell through and needs some work. And then...uh something personal came up that kinda wrecked me. So...enjoy this update, yeah? And remember, you can find me at necros-writings on tumblr! I look forward to seeing you all there.

The next few weeks involved helping the survivors return to the City, moving supplies into the hangar base that was serving as the Tower, and burying the dead.  Thanks to the efforts of the Guardians, there weren’t many citizens. However, there were many Guardians. Even without the Light, they fought to the end. Some of their Ghosts survived, but even after the Traveler woke, it seemed it was too late. Something had stopped the Light from reentering the dead.

 

Much of the work fell, surprisingly, on Jaxon. He buried those Guardians whose friends simply couldn’t, either because they too had died or because they couldn’t move past their grief. All they could muster, most of the time, were quick words over their bodies before moving on. Death may be their day-to-day, but moving on was not. An added surprise that came from his tending to the passed-on Guardians, their Ghosts began to flock to him. Their distress at being alone once more felt like a never-ending wave to him, crashing over him every time he draped a cloth over the body or carefully lowered another into a patiently dug hole. He didn’t know how a Guardian’s death was usually handled, but he doubted that anyone was fit to try for the normal burial process right now. He didn’t bother to ask the Ghosts either, even when so many had surrounded him that he’d lost count, just as he lost count of the Guardians. Of course, they didn’t really speak to him either, choosing to hover briefly over their respective Guardian’s grave before going back to floating around him.

 

He passed many days in this fashion, conscious of the Ghosts leaving, new ones taking their place, and then them leaving as well. He wasn’t sure where they went or what they were going to do now, but hoped that it filled their lives, at least somewhat, with contentment. After a while, the Ghosts stopped coming and ones that had already mourned as much as they could left, until just one was left, constantly hovering over his shoulder. He didn’t mind too much. It was nice to have company, in a way. The civilians often stopped by, some even helped as much as they could, but they all left eventually, except this one Ghost. So, they kept at it, the both of them, working day and night until the Guardians were all buried, until the last shovelful of dirt was patted down and he could rest.

 

Sitting down next to the last mound of dirt, Jaxon let out a long breath. “I’m guessing I buried yours here, somewhere, didn’t I?” He asked the Ghost floating next to him, after a long silence. When the Ghost didn’t answer him, he continued on, “There’s a lot of them here. Even ignoring the civilians they had to bury too, this is a lot. Not the most I’ve ever had to bury, but still too many.” Still the Ghost said nothing, but that was alright. His statement didn’t need a comment. “Well, my work here is done. Maybe something to eat would be nice, huh?” Again, silence, but he figured it didn’t matter much. Ghosts probably didn’t eat. “Know any good places to eat? ….that are still standing?” More silence, then the Ghost bumped gently against his head and began to float away, slowly moving away from the makeshift cemetery. Dusting himself off and saying a quick goodbye to the graves, Jaxon stood and quietly began following his newfound companion.

 

Had many of the streets still been in working order, it likely would not have taken as long as it did for Jaxon and the Ghost to make their way somewhere suitable for lunch, but as it was, it was really more dinner time once they finally arrived at a little restaurant, tucked between the rubble of what might have once been an apartment building and a much larger restaurant that was far too crowded for his liking. So, he entered the little restaurant and sniffed at the air. A ramen shop. What were the odds?

 

“Hey, Jaxon, buddy!” Maybe the odds weren’t quite what they seemed.

 

“Cayde-6, right?” He asked as he took the stool next to Exo. “Is this you making good on the promise to buy me some food?”

 

“Oh, you still remember that?” Cayde-6 chuckled, a steaming bowl in front of him already.

 

“Of course. I never forget a promise about food.” He smiled and nodded at what he presumed was a menu on the counter. “Anything you’d recommend?”

 

“You gotta try the spicy ramen bowl, it’s amazing!”

 

“Ok, I’ll give it a try.” He caught the attention of the cook and placed his order, a bowl of freshly made ramen set down in front of him moments later. “Certainly smells good enough.”

 

Opening a pair of chopsticks, Jaxon set to eating in silence. He’d barely managed to swallow the first mouthful when Cayde-6, for whom the word ‘quiet’ probably meant nothing, said, “So listen, Jax, buddy-can I call you Jax?” When he got an unbothered shrug from the other, he plowed on with, “I gotta tell ya, I really didn’t expect to see you again. New guy to the City and all and first day here there’s a war with the Cabal? Crazy, right?” Again, another shrug, accompanied with a soft slurping sound as Jaxon chased a noodle. “So, I’m up in the hangar, helping supervise all the supplies and such, you know? And I hear your name come up. And I’m just ‘Whoa, that new guy made it? Unbelievable, I gotta hear about that’, so I go and ask around, cause I figure it’d make a good story and out of all the people I’m asking, it’s _Shaxx_ that’s telling me about this strange guy in ratty, torn up clothes with bandages wrapped all ‘round his face like a mummy. And you know what Shaxx told me?”

 

Jaxon shifted slightly in his seat, moving closer to the counter, as he reached for a napkin. “I’m sure there are any number of things he might have said about me. Good with a sword, maybe? Willing to help? Quiet?”

 

“Well, all that did come up, but I was thinking about something a little more interesting.” Cayde-6 hadn’t touched his bowl since he’d started talking, hadn’t even picked up his chopsticks, and was focusing intently on Jaxon, who’d just finished wiping his mouth.

 

“More interesting? Well…I can only think of one thing he’d likely said, so that leaves a question between us, doesn’t it?”

 

“I guess so. Feel like working with me and the Vanguard?”

 

Jaxon couldn’t help it, he choked. Almost coughed up his spicy ramen. Several thousand years old and shit could still surprise him. Who knew? “I’m sorry,” He managed as he grabbed the water offered to him by the cook, “you want me to what?”

 

“Work with me and the Vanguard. Shaxx was impressed by what you did and you know how hard it is to impress Shaxx?”

 

“I imagine very, if you’re willing to let past the shadow controlling shit.” Jaxon replied after chugging the glass of water.

 

“Yeah, well, he made it a point to remind me, a lot, that you were tryin’ hard to help. So _I_ figure you can’t be too bad.”

 

“Alright then. And if I were to say yes to this, instead of blowing you off and moving on to some other place, what would be the deal?”

 

“A little help with mission ops, maybe some spying for Ikora, if that’s your thing, maybe even leading strikes.”

 

“Mhm. And all this isn’t some ploy to watch over someone that could be dangerous to the City?”

 

“Oh, it’s definitely that too. Just figured you’d at least like to do something while we watch ya.”

 

“Well, I certainly can’t object to that.” Jaxon said, getting another mouthful of ramen. He certainly wouldn’t call this particularly spicy, but the kick was there and enjoyable, so no complaint. Swallowing, he asked, “And does anyone else know about this little ploy?”

 

“Well, I can’t say. I’ve always been sure Ikora can read minds. I’ve got fifty glimmer that says she can and just doesn’t say anything about it.”

 

“Mm. Then this should be an interesting test, yes?” Jaxon finished off his noodles and then lifted the bowl to drain the broth. “I’ll wait for you to finish, unless you’re taking that to go.” The Ghost, which had kept its distance after leading Jaxon to the little noodle shop, floated up now and brushed against his head. “Hmm? I hope you weren’t worried about me leaving you here, little _luux_.”

 

“Lukes? Is that that Ghost’s name? Odd name.”

 

“No, I don’t know its name. _Luux_ is my people’s word for ‘light’. And while I may be blind, I can still feel the Light in this creature.”

 

“Ah. Learn something new every day.” Cayde-6 waved down the cook and got a bowl to go for his ramen. Once it was packed away, the little styrofoam bowl just…melted away. At least, it did to Jaxon. One moment he could hear it, see the little image the sound of it made in his mind, and then….it was like watching ice cream melt on a summer day. It was simply gone.

 

“What did you just do? Where’d the bowl go?”

 

“I thought you couldn’t see.”

 

“I can’t, not like you, but I know there was a bowl there and now there’s not. Where’d the bowl go?”

 

“Hoo boy, you’re really gonna need some education, aren’t ya?”

 

“It would appear I do, yes.” He replied, standing as Cayde-6 got up. “Guess you’ll have to tell me what you can on the way to…wherever.”

 

“Well, I’m no Ikora Rey, but I think I can do that.” So, with the silent Ghost floating alongside them, Jaxon and Cayde-6 started on their way to the ‘New Tower’, as Cayde-6 called it.

 

MadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMad

 

Now knowing a little more about ‘transmats’ and the strange backpack space that…existed, somehow, at the disposable of every Guardian, Jaxon felt a little better about his surprise at Cayde-6’s bowl disappearing as it did. As it was, however, his new-found knowledge did not help him when they arrived at the New Tower and were almost immediately confronted by a rather intense, if quietly so, woman and a man built like a freight train. “Hello again. I believe we met back at the Farm.” This was from the human woman, who regarded him with a gaze that, even without sight, he could tell was measuring him up, comparing him to a wealth of knowledge that even he could probably barely imagine.

 

“Yes, I…offered a distraction. I hope it worked.”

 

“It did, and you have our thanks.” This from the larger man, an Awoken, if he remembered the name right. “Without your help, who knows how many more would have died.” Jaxon had to bite his cheek to stop from saying the number aloud.

 

“And we hope that you will offer that help again, by working with us.” Again, Ikora, for that’s who he was sure he was talking to. It had taken a moment to remember her sound, but he knew it.

 

“Cayde already explained it. I am more than happy to assist. In any way I can. Humanity is…important to me. I would like to see it flourish again.”

 

“Very well then. If you would…is that your Ghost?” The man again, Zavala, if he was remembering the name right. Jaxon’s hands came up to cup the silent the Ghost, careful not to prick himself on the strange spines coming off it.

 

“Well…I suppose it is now, if it would like me.” The spines flexed against his hands, as if the Ghost were settling in, and he smiled. “I suppose that’s a yes. Now, you were saying?”

 

“I was saying, if you wouldn’t mind coming with us, we will sort out what role you’ll play in your work with the Vanguard.” Jaxon, despite being well aware of the real reason behind all this, was still happy to find something to do to help. And so he willingly followed these people into what would likely become his prison for some time to come.

 

The discussion didn’t take long. It was decided that Jaxon would work with the Hidden, a network of scouts employed by Ikora that worked as the Vanguard’s spy network. Unofficially, of course. But that would be his role, at least for now. He doubted it would last long. He doubted anyone would be comfortable around him. And if no one could watch him and manage their job, he’d be moved to something else, eventually. But for now, it was fine.

 

“Very well then. I have a partner already decided for you, if you don’t mind.” Ikora said, tapping at the table they all stood around. Jaxon assumed that the table had a graphics display or something built in, but it didn’t really do him much good. “I believe you already know them. A Warlock, by the name of Net?”

 

Jaxon nodded as he adjusted the collar of his jacket, his Ghost having settled in the hood and thrown off the feel a bit. But the weight, slight as it was, was nice and he said nothing about it. “Yes, they and Dice-10 were part of my…fireteam?” He hated military terms, had never bothered to learn the terms of his own military and would likely forget these as well.

 

“That’s correct. Net volunteered to be your partner, if you accepted our proposal.”

 

Jaxon nodded in response. He really didn’t need to ask what would have happened if he’d said no. It wasn’t exactly difficult to figure out. “I’m more than happy to be their partner. And I assume that we report directly to you?” He directed that at Ikora, who nodded.

 

“Net will show you how to draw up official reports. They will be waiting for you in the hangar, once we are done here.” Jaxon nodded again and continued to do so as more was explained to him over the next hour. The crash course Cayde-6 had given him paled in comparison to Ikora’s, though he attributed that more to how well Ikora could actually focus on something. Talking to Cayde-6 was a bit like rolling a die with topics of conversation instead of numbers. And the die was rolled every few minutes. With an increasing number of sides. Although, food seemed to make up a lot of the topics.

 

Nearly an hour later, Jaxon was wandering about the Replacement Tower, trying to find his way to the main hangar, mind reeling a bit from all the information Ikora had managed to pack into his ‘crash course’. All that information and somehow, _someway_ , he hadn’t gotten directions to the hangar. It took him nearly another hour to find where he was going. Any time he tried to stop someone for directions, they either walked faster or started thanking him so much that he couldn’t get a word in edge-wise. Eventually, he stopped asking and just wandered. Worked out well, in the end. “Where the hell have you been?” Net asked him when he finally found them.

 

“I…stopped to help some people?”

 

“Try again.”

 

Jaxon rolled his eyes, a pointless endeavor, given the bandages still wrapped around his face, and sighed. “Ok, I got lost.”

 

“How?”

 

“Well, I can’t see with my eyes, so signs are useless, people don’t like answering questions, and either Ikora forgot to tell me or I am incapable of keeping information in my head longer than five minutes.”

 

“Hopefully not that last one. Not if you’re going to be working with me.” Jaxon could practically hear the grin on their face.

 

“Aye aye. Just tell me what we’re doing, and I’m sure I’ll remember. Who are you again?”

 

Net let out a short laugh and nodded. “Alright, you can’t be that bad to work with anyway. As for what we’re doing,” They added, climbing up on their ship and popping open the hatch, “we’re going clothes shopping.”

 

“What, not a fan of my rakish traveler look?” Jaxon scrambled up the wing of Net’s ship, looking for all the world like a darkly furred squirrel.

 

“Your jacket is nice.” That was really all the positive input Net had to offer as they helped Jaxon into the back seat.

 

“Thank you, I stole it off a skeleton in a department store.”

 

“I…didn’t need to know that.” The hatch closed as Net settled into the pilot’s chair, their Ghost floating back to study Jaxon. “Oh, that’s Reed.”

 

“Nice to meet you, Reed.” Jaxon inclined his head at the Ghost, which felt like a tiny sun hovering in front of his face. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling.

 

“Is it true, what we’ve heard? Do you really control the Darkness?” The Ghost asked him, its voice reminding Jaxon of ice cracking in warm air.

 

“Yes, it’s true. I hope that’s not a problem.”

 

“Not at all.” And then Reed flew back up front with Net.

 

After a moment of silence, during which Net started up the ship after getting clearance, Jaxon suddenly realized something. “Net, if we’re going shopping, why are we in your ship? Surely there’s public transport in the City.”

 

“There is, but we’re not going to the City. We’re going a little encampment I know.” And before Jaxon could protest, or even really respond at all, they were in the air and he was gripping his seat. This was far too fast for his liking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MP: Hey, sorry about us taking so long. Necro was having a rough time, so we hope for your understanding. Happy October, everyone!


End file.
